


A Dark and Storming Knight

by tehfanglyfish



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), But Merlin Doesn't Know He Knows, Canon Era, Deviates From Canon, Let's Get Spoopy, Love Confessions, M/M, Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), This Is As Close To A Halloween Fic As I'll Get This Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-07 16:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21220283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehfanglyfish/pseuds/tehfanglyfish
Summary: After their horses run off in a torrential downpour, Arthur and Merlin are forced to take shelter in a cold and creepy abandoned house. To make matters worse, Arthur keeps wishing that a sorcerer would show up to light the fire.





	A Dark and Storming Knight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the love of Camelot and its amazing fandom. No monies for me.

He was a dark and storming knight.

Meaning that he was in the dark; the sun had been down for a while, storm clouds and driving rain obscuring any moonlight that might have illuminated the path ahead.

He was also raging. Or very put out at the least.

Merlin supposed that Arthur had every right to be in a bad mood. They’d been walking for what felt like ages in a torrential downpour. It wasn’t Merlin’s fault that the horses had spooked when the first claps of thunder echoed out.

“Can you do nothing right?” Arthur had bellowed as their mounts ran off. “You let them go.”

“I wasn’t going to let them drag me all the way back to Camelot,” Merlin countered.

“Well thanks to you, now we get to walk,” Arthur growled.

While Merlin could hold his own in war of words, he bit his tongue, the weather dousing any fire he might have had to argue back. Instead, he followed Arthur through the deluge, neither of them speaking. It was probably for the best. Merlin doubted either of them had anything to say that wouldn’t lead to later regrets and apologies. The night was miserable enough as it was.

“Are you alright? From when the horses ran off, I mean.”

It was the first thing Arthur had said in over an hour. Merlin had to strain to hear his voice over the rain and wind. There was genuine concern in his tone, taking Merlin by surprise. He’d expected Arthur to continue his tirade from earlier.

“I’m a little sore from where the reins jerked my arm, but that’s about it.”

“Good. I can’t have you getting injured. Who else will bring me breakfast and polish my armor?”

Merlin sighed. Of course that’s what Arthur would care about. It was to be expected, he supposed. Arthur was a king, after all, which meant he was supercilious, a bit of a prat, sometimes careless with his words, breathtakingly beautiful, and completely out of Merlin’s league.

“I’m sure you could find another servant. I recommend George. I think the two of you would get along brilliantly.”

“Oh no you don’t. You’re not leaving me with him. I’ve heard things about that man.”

“Such as?”

“He has meticulous attention to detail, shows up to work on time, and never skives off to the tavern.”

It was hard to keep up a conversation over the din of the storm, but Merlin was determined since Arthur was finally speaking to him again.

“And you’re sure you don’t want him instead?”

“The man is clearly a bootlicker, Merlin. You are many things, but not that.”

Despite the cold from the pounding rain, Merlin felt his ears grow warm. An outside observer might think nothing of what Arthur had said, but he recognized it for the compliment that it was.

“Speaking of boots, mine are full of water. I might as well be wading through a river.”

A strong gust of wind blew him forward, but strong arms grabbed him before he could fall.

“Easy or I will be stuck with George. Although I may need his polishing skills. I think my sword has started to rust.”

“Hey now! You know it’s my job to polish your sword.”

Cold rain or not, Merlin’s face was burning.

“True. It would be wrong of me to deny you the pleasure.”

Merlin tried not to choke and kept trudging on, a task which proved difficult, as his drenched clothes weighed him down.

“This is miserable,” he called to Arthur.

“We left miserable behind three miles ago. This is something else entirely. It’s enough to make me wish there was a sorcerer around.”

“A sorcerer?”

“Yes, Merlin, a sorcerer. I imagine there’s a spell that could stop the rain.”

Arthur wasn’t wrong. Controlling the weather was complicated, but possible. A shield charm would be easier – the rain would still fall but not on them. He could dry out their clothes and…

Merlin shut down that line of reasoning. He had enough to worry about without absentmindedly casting a drying spell in front of Arthur.

“I suppose there could be,” Merlin finally replied.

“It certainly would be convenient,” Arthur continued. “This storm is so awful that sorcerer could stand right beside me and cast it and I wouldn’t even care. I’d just be happy to have a chance to wring out my clothes.”

Merlin knew Arthur didn’t really mean it. From the first week he’d known the man, he’d repeatedly heard Arthur echo Uther’s views on magic - it was evil, corrupted those who used it, had to be stopped, and so on. There were occasions when Merlin wondered if Arthur might not entirely believe that to be true. He lacked his father’s zeal for persecuting suspected sorcerers, something made apparent early on when he’d helped Mordred escape from Camelot’s dungeons.

It’s true that prosecution for magical offenses had dropped considerably after Arthur assumed the throne, with only those who had used magic for harm facing trial. But Arthur hadn’t gone so far as to actually lift the ban. If he were to discover that Merlin had been a sorcerer all these years, well… best not to dwell on what he might do.

Merlin realized he’d fallen silent for too long. He was trying to think of a non-committal reply about magic when something else caught his attention.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“Over there – just ahead. I thought I saw…”

A flash of lightning revealed a house not too far in the distance.

“Come on,” Arthur commanded.

****

Their first clue that the house had been abandoned was the fact that the door had blown open. This was not the kind of night to let in a breeze and Arthur shoved it closed behind them.

Broken furniture was strewn about, something Merlin was painfully aware of after having tripped over the remnants of a table.

It was cold inside and the walls and windows were drafty, but at least the roof wasn’t leaking. Even in their soaking-wet clothes, it was nice to be out of the driving rain.

“Here’s the hearth,” Arthur’s voice called from across the main room. He’d been edging his way around, the darkness forcing them to explore more by touch than by sight. “See if you can’t get a fire started.”

Merlin inched his way carefully around the obstacles in the floor. It was as though someone had deliberately broken up the furniture, the level of destruction too great to be simple decay. He wondered what had happened here – nothing good came to mind. Still, the debris would at least give them kindling for the fire if he could get one going.

He made it to the hearth and knelt down to inspect it. Surprisingly, there was wood, stacked and dry – all it needed was a spark. Which wouldn’t have been an issue if his flint wasn’t in the saddle bag strapped to a horse that was probably having a lovely evening eating hay in the Camelot stables.

What to do, what to do? A quick _forbearnan _would do the trick. It was dark enough to where Arthur might not notice and…

“You don’t have a flint, do you?”

So much for magic.

“The horse ran off with it.”

Merlin braced himself for another round of insults.

“Oh well. Maybe the horses are sitting around a nice campfire somewhere.”

“You’re not mad?”

“At you? No. At this situation? A bit.”

“But I’m the one who let the horses go.”

“Yes, and since you did, I still have someone to talk to. Honestly, I was worried you might get hurt when my horse reared. Those hooves came dangerously close to your head and if they’d clipped you…”

“You’d be stuck with George for life,” Merlin joked.

He didn’t want Arthur to know just how scared he’d been. If he’d been able to use his magic, he could have safely kept a hold on the horses, but with Arthur standing beside him, he’d had no choice but to drop the reins to avoid a kick to the head.

“Which is pretty bad. Even worse, the light would have gone out of my life, as I would be forced to spend the rest of my days without the brave idiot who happens to be my closest friend.”

There were times, typically when they were away from the prying eyes of the royal court, when Arthur dropped the façade of royal arrogance and showed this other side of himself, marked by soft tenderness… of course Merlin felt affection for him. How could he not?

“Let me see if I can find us a place to sit,” Merlin said, trying to shove away the swell of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.

It took a minute to clear out enough of the mess to make enough room for them both. A couple of old rugs gave them something to sit on besides the bare floor.

“This would be easier,” Merlin said as he dragged a table leg, “if my clothes weren’t sticking to me.”

“Take them off.”

“What?!”

“I seriously doubt they’re providing any warmth at this point – I know mine aren’t.”

It was a fair point, Merlin supposed. He was positively freezing, the soaked fabric making it worse. Still, dark night or not, Merlin had no intention of sitting around naked with Arthur. That was just asking for trouble. Magic was, on the whole, far easier to hide than, say, some symptoms of arousal.

“I’ll check for… something. Maybe there are blankets or cloaks or…”

The lightning had picked up since they had arrived at the house, and the bright flashes helped Merlin navigate the room toward a door on the far wall, which, he discovered, led into a small adjacent room.

It had one small window. From what Merlin could tell, this had once been used as a bedroom. He felt layers of dust under his fingers as he pulled covers off the bed. Judging by the grime and the musty smell, no one had slept here for years. Still, as unappealing as the bedclothes were, they were something to wrap up in while they waited for their clothes to dry

He hurriedly collected the covers. It was hard to explain but something about the room was off-putting. The main section of the house was odd, but the bedchamber left Merlin with the sensation that he was being watched. He couldn’t see anything as he glanced around. Maybe it was just his nerves – they’d had a difficult walk on a miserable night and now they were stuck in an abandoned hovel. It made sense that he would be on edge.

Merlin was about to leave when he thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Hello. Is anyone there?”

The only response was a crack of thunder. He studied the room, but all appeared still.

“Did you find anything?”

Merlin did his best not to flinch. Caught up in the eeriness of the bedroom, he hadn’t heard Arthur’s footfalls behind him.

“Only these blankets. Come on, let’s get out of this room. And maybe bar the door.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m probably just being a girl’s petticoat, but…”

“No, I don’t like this house, either, and there’s something very wrong about this room.”

They shut the door tightly and made their way back to the rugs. Merlin divvied up the covers he’d collected, then they both stripped down. Merlin wrapped a blanket around his waist, and draped another across his shoulders. Arthur did the same.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to get out of my clothes.”

It was nice to have the soaked fabric off his skin – his breeches had started chafing in uncomfortable places.

“Never?” Arthur asked. “Surely at some point disrobing has held more appeal. If there was a lovely young woman waiting for you…”

That image drew Merlin’s thoughts back to Freya. It had been years since he’d lost her. She’d been the only person in Camelot who had come remotely close to breaking the hold Arthur had over him. Though they’d only known each other for a short while, he’d relished being able to share his secret with her.

“… or maybe a lovely young man?” Arthur continued when Merlin failed to respond.

His tone was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity underneath.

“It’s ok if there was. A young man, I mean. I know it’s not often talked about, but there are some men in Camelot who love men and women who love women or maybe they love both. And I believe that so long as there’s love involved, it shouldn’t matter. The heart wants what it will and…”

“Like I would have time for suitors,” Merlin countered before Arthur could wander too far down a path of awkward rambling “Between you and Gaius, I hardly have time to eat and sleep.”

He’d held his secrets for years. If he ever decided to confess his feelings or his magic to Arthur, he sure as hell wouldn’t do so in this nightmare of a house.

“Fair enough. But you shouldn’t be alone, Merlin,” Arthur said as they settled down on the rugs. “

“Says the man who has turned down every eligible princess in the five kingdoms and beyond.”

“Yes, well, they only want me for my crown. And that’s not the point – we were talking about you, but out of respect for your privacy I will drop the matter. I wish we had some food. I’m starving.”

“Don’t eat anything you find in here. As the assistant to the court physician, I officially declare any food in this house to be a health hazard.”

“I think you have a point.”

Though the horses had taken most of their supplies, Merlin’s jacket pockets yielded damp cheese and a couple of apples. He handed it over to Arthur.

“Is there more?”

“No, that’s it. I know it’s less than you’re used to but…”

“Then we’re splitting it. Here, take this.”

“But…”

“I’m the king. I command you to take it.”

After everything they’d been through that night, Merlin had expected more anger, but there it was again – the warm affection that Arthur often reserved just for him. It was, of course, a reflection of their friendship, but it still made Merlin’s stomach flutter.

They sat wrapped in filthy blankets, eating their meager rations, listening to the storm raging outside. It seemed that it would never end. Maybe when Arthur fell asleep, Merlin could try to do something about it. He wished that he had the grimoire to consult. There was a lot that could go wrong with controlling the weather.

“I do wish we had a fire,” Arthur said, his food now gone. “This house is drafty.”

“Sorry,” Merlin replied.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m a little cold, that’s all. I bet a sorcerer wouldn’t have this problem. Someone with magic could simply conjure a fire.”

“True,” Merlin replied, thinking it best to keep his response short. He could feel Arthur’s gaze but refused to meet his eyes.

“I don’t know much about magic,” Arthur continued, “but it would stand to reason that small spells, ones to help with mundane tasks, aren’t that dangerous. I mean, could someone really be corrupted by lighting a fire?”

“I… I wouldn’t think so.”

Of all the conversation topics Arthur might have chosen, why did it have to be magic?

“That’s part of why I’ve changed how the laws are enforced. I know the ban is still in effect, but I can’t begrudge someone for trying to be more efficient with their chores.”

“Chores do eat up a lot of time.”

“Exactly! I mean, if someone has a lot of work to do, too much to accomplish in a single day, can it really be that bad if they use magic to save time lighting a fire or heating bathwater? Surely that kind of magic can’t corrupt the heart of someone who is compassionate and kind.”

No, Merlin thought, no it can’t.

Honestly, Merlin wasn’t sure how he would survive without his magic. Though his life was complicated by always having to hide, the only way he could carry out all the tasks assigned to him by Arthur and Gaius was to cut corners using magic.

Not that Arthur knew this, or that Merlin had saved his life and the kingdom countless times with it as well.

“I guess not. Speaking of chores, do you think there’s any way that we could put off changing out your drapes until after Samhain because…”

“It’s so chilly in here,” Arthur said, cutting off Merlin’s attempt at redirecting the conversation. “If a sorcerer walked through the front door right now and used his magic to light a fire, I’d consider him a true friend.”

“Yes, well, he wouldn’t know that, would he?”

Fine. If Arthur couldn’t be dissuaded from this line of discussion, Merlin might as well indulge him.

“Maybe he would barge in, seeking shelter from the rain. And maybe, without thinking, he’d light the fire. But when he realized he’d just performed magic in plain view of the king of Camelot, he’d likely flee for his life, not stick around to hear professions of friendship.”

“You raise a good point, Merlin. I suppose to get the sorcerer to use his magic, I’d have to make him believe that he was unobserved, that I wasn’t watching. For instance, I could hide in that awful bedroom. That way he could magic the fire and then, when I did finally step out, tell me a lie about having his own flint. And about being very efficient at lighting fires.”

Clearly Arthur had given this considerable thought. Merlin didn’t like it one bit as Arthur’s hypothetical scenario hit a little too close to home. Only two days earlier Merlin had told a similar lie about being efficient when asked how he’d been able to get a fire going so quickly in Arthur’s bedchamber, the king unexpectedly stepping in from the servant’s antechamber attached to his rooms.

“Can you blame him for lying? You’re the king – you know what the law says about magic.”

“Yes, but as king, I also know that laws can be changed, should new information warrant it. I’m not my father, Merlin.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

“Of course. You’re a better and more worthy king than Uther ever was.”

“You say that but… look, all I’m trying to say is, I really wish a sorcerer would light the fire right now.”

Arthur’s voice was solemn – it wasn’t a joke. He meant it. For once in all the time he’d known Arthur, Merlin was seriously tempted to reveal himself.

Merlin spared a glance Arthur’s way, lightning flashes revealing bright blue eyes locked on his. If Merlin didn’t know better, he would almost suspect that Arthur knew.

But that couldn’t be true. If Arthur had discovered Merlin’s secret, he would have said something. Arthur was, at his core, a kind man with a good heart, but he’d been lied to so many times throughout his life. Merlin’s decade-long deception would obliterate the bond they shared.

He can’t know, Merlin decided, not with how kind he’s been to me tonight.

“It’s just like a royal prat to change the laws for his own comfort.”

It was a half-hearted attempt at a joke, but all that Merlin could muster.

“Merlin, that’s not what I…”

A loud bang against the bedroom door stopped Arthur mid-sentence.

“What was that?”

“Maybe the wind?”

“Maybe. Although I think I hear…”

Over the howl of the storm, they listened.

The creak of floorboards carried through the closed door, the sound getting closer. There were frantic scratches on the wall, then the crack of wood splintering.

It wasn’t just the wind. Someone or something was in the other room.

Merlin could feel Arthur’s body shifting closer to his own.

“I’ve got my sword,” Arthur whispered, his breath warm against Merlin’s ear, “you stay here.”

As if I ever do what I’m told, Merlin thought, following Arthur from their spot on the floor.

Slowly, they both rose, careful not to make a sound. Clad only in blankets wrapped around their waists, they stood ready to face whatever was on the other side of the door.

It would be a lie to say that they didn’t jump when the loud banging began, the whatever-it-was hammering on the door.

“The door is holding. Maybe we should leave,” Merlin whispered.

“I think…”

Merlin never found out what Arthur thought because at that moment the door split down the middle.

A glowing apparition stepped through the opening. It had the form of a person, and yet it was no ordinary man. A ghastly face, half skeletal, half decaying flesh, stared at them. Towering more than a meter taller than Arthur and Merlin, its silvery body was translucent. And yet in spite of that, it was able to grip a splintered bedpost, swinging it like a club as it crossed the floor toward them, the scattered debris doing nothing to impede its approach.

Arthur did his best to fight it off, wielding his sword valiantly. Though he was able to parry its blows with the bedpost, his sword was useless in terms of causing any damage to their attacker, the blade sailing through the shimmering body as if it were made of smoke.

Merlin was terrified, though whether he was more afraid of the ghost or Arthur, he couldn’t say. He knew what he had to do, but there would be consequences and…

“Gods damn it, Merlin! Use your magic.”

Arthur’s command pulled him out of his panic. There was no time to think of a spell, he just let the magic run through him. He didn’t blast the apparition back to the spirit realm – he obliterated it.

As his brain tried to process what he’d just done – both the power of his magic and the fact that he’d used it in plain view in front of Arthur – he felt hands grip him tightly, pulling him flush with Arthur’s body, pressing their bare chests together. Before he could say anything, Arthur kissed him soundly. Overwhelmed, Merlin did the only thing that seemed right under the circumstances – he kissed Arthur back.

Why Arthur was doing this, Merlin wasn’t sure. It was probably just the relief of having lived through their ordeal. When Arthur regained his senses, this night would likely mark the end their friendship. Until then, Merlin would allow himself this one indulgence before things took a very bad turn. After all, he had nothing left to lose. Why not pour all of his love for Arthur into their one and only kiss?

“Now,” Arthur said, when he finally broke it off, a noticeable tremor in his voice, “for the love all that is good, light the damn fire.”

****

“How long have you known?”

They were sitting in front of a roaring fire, once again dressed, Merlin’s magic having quickly dried out their clothes.

“For two days. I saw you taking the easy way lighting a fire. But I had strongly suspected for years. You think you’re subtle, but you’re really not.”

“Then why didn’t you…”

“At first, to keep you safe. You remember how my father was and if he’d found out…”

“I understand. He was your father and I’m a servant. You would have to…”

“Merlin, there’s no way I would have ever let him hurt you.”

It took a moment for the gravity of Arthur’s words to sink in.

“But then after he was gone…”

“I expected you to tell me. I waited for it. I had even practiced what I would say to you. Only you never did. And so I figured you must have had a good reason. I really don’t know a lot about magic and I thought that if you still wouldn’t tell me, maybe it is corrupting.”

“You think I’m corrupted?”

“No, of course not. If there’s one thing in this world of which I am certain, Merlin, it’s that you have a good heart. There’s no one in the world I trust more than you. But I assumed you knew something I didn’t. Maybe it takes someone as strong as you to resist its corrupting influences or… I don’t know. Which is why I took you out on a ride. I planned to ask you about it.”

“Except the horses ran off…”

“Exactly. And as we sat shivering in the dark, it occurred to me that the issue isn’t the magic – it’s me. You don’t trust me. You think that I’m like Uther and…”

“No, Arthur, never. It’s just…”

“What?”

“After years of lying, it became habit. Honestly, I thought you’d be livid and I didn’t want you to send me away or…”

“As if I could do that.”

“Only because you don’t want to be stuck with George.”

“More because I want to be stuck with you. Well not stuck. What I mean to say is… I love both.”

“Both?”

“Women and men. Though more men. And mostly you. Only you for the past few years, if I’m entirely honest. Earlier, when I was asking you if there was a young woman or man… I was trying to find out if… anyway, it’s unimportant.”

“Oh, I think it’s plenty important.”

“Merlin, I understand that what I did earlier was uncalled for. I was caught up in the moment and you were so amazing and…”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that I have been keeping two secrets from you, which I swore to myself earlier tonight that I would never confess here – this house doesn’t really set the right mood. But since one has already come to light, why not? I liked. When you kissed me. I’d been wanting you to kiss me for years and I never thought it would happen and…”

Merlin’s words were cut off by Arthur once again claiming his mouth with his own, though gentler than before. They’d both come down from the adrenaline rush of fighting the ghost and now there was time to relax and let lips and tongues get a proper introduction. If fingers and hands started roaming in the process, well, Merlin wasn’t complaining.

“There is more we can do than kissing.”

Arthur’s voice was low and Merlin was tempted. Still, the setting left much to be desired. And anyway, there was still a lot that needed to be said before things escalated.

“Yes, there is. When we’re back in Camelot and out of this awful house.”

“I can see you’re eager to get back – the rain is tapering off.”

“I am but that’s not me – the storm has run its course.”

“Then come on. Let’s get out of here. While we walk back, you can tell me all about your magic and the amazing things you’ve done. I mean, I think I know part of it, but my guess is that I’ve missed a few things along the way.”

“Well, you are a bit thick.”

“I suppose. But you love me anyway.”

“True.”

How was Merlin supposed to walk all the way to Camelot with Arthur smiling at him like that?

Though they hadn’t slept the previous night, it was a relief to be out of the derelict building.

“I wonder whose house this was and what happened here.”

“Whatever it was, it was bad.”

“Very bad. And so, as your first act as my official court sorcerer, I command you to destroy it.”

“Destroy it?”

“Like you did the phantom. Even with the specter gone, I don’t think this is a good place for travelers to stop.”

Arthur had a point. It took Merlin a second to focus, but soon the offensive house was gone. Arthur was giving him a look.

“I understand if it takes time for you get used to seeing magic in the open. It must be frightening, but know that I would never…”

“That’s not it. I might have had another reaction. Nothing to worry about.”

Merlin grinned as Arthur adjusted his breeches.

“What about that barn?”

A smaller building stood about fifty feet away.

“Do you want me to destroy it because you fear it’s corrupted or because you like to watch me blow things up?”

Arthur didn’t reply but Merlin could guess the answer to his question.

“We should make sure it’s empty first. There might some other poor water-logged travelers who took shelter there.”

As they approached the building, they heard sounds from within. Something was in there – something large.

Merlin stood at Arthur’s side as he drew his sword.

“Come on,” he whispered.

Cautiously, they crept around the building and approached the entrance. There was heavy breathing, leather creaking, and the sound of something coming toward them. Merlin was just about to let lose with another blast of magic when Arthur caught him.

“It’s the horses! We don’t have to walk.”

The animals were a little jumpy, but unharmed; Merlin’s pats and reassuring whispers calmed them.

“What are you smiling about?” he asked as he noticed Arthur watching.

“You. You are a man of many talents, Merlin, and I want to learn about all of them. Now let’s divide what food is left the saddle bags and head home. I think I’ve had more than enough of this place.”

Merlin knew that there was still much that needed to be said and sorted. And yet, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he wasn’t worried. It was impossible to worry on such beautiful morning, especially when Arthur was looking at him like that.

“I couldn’t agree more. Let’s go.”


End file.
